ReWrite!
by JacAvoy85
Summary: "Oh," Michael said hauntingly as he made his way closer to the brunet, "I'm afraid that's where you're mistaken," he ran a hand down James' cheek, "you see- - I already am him." "What," James asked with a gulp, "do you mean?" Silence. "I am Erik." James/Michael Charles/Erik Dark!Erik/Michael. Warnings for Dub-Con. Michael takes his roles a little too seriously.


**A/N: So, this little story came about after I read this little tid-bit from an article about the sequel to First Class: _"The plan for the sequel" —which he (writer/producer Simon Kinberg) says: is unlike any of the other X-men movies— "is to do some 'unexpected' things with Xavier and Magneto."_**

**So yeah..I may have read a little more onto that than strictly necessary (but also the fangirl in me was _screaming_ that it's what it sounded like). If you're interested in the article, it can be found at Hollywood/./com , under: X-men First Class Sequel will feature more Michael Fassbender.**

**And again, this is just me having fun with words, _for-the-love-of-god_, please do not take anything I write seriously. Ever.**

January, 2014.

"I'm sorry," James said, looking oddly at their director, "but what did you just say?"

"I want to take a different approach with the sequel," Matthew repeated.

Shaking his head, James said: "No, I got that part—it just sounded like you said you wanted to play out a more 'romantic' view, involving Erik and Charles." Which- -which was crazy.

"I think that's exactly what he said," Michael said, glancing over at his co-star. His eyes lingered up and down James' body.

"I did." Matthew clarified.

"Romantic?" James repeated—just to be sure.

"Yes."

He then looked over at Michael. "And you're onboard with this?"

Shrugging, Michael just told the Scottish man: "I don't see why not."

James glanced back over at his clearly insane director. "Don't you think that will—_oh I don't know_—piss off a couple hundred thousand die-hard, by the book (comic book) fans?" Seriously—this can't be a good idea…

Not that James _didn't_ think that Charles and Erik's relationship was more than just a friendship—_hell_—he's even said so in past interviews. But he never thought Matthew would want to explore that in the sequel. So many angry fans…

"Listen," Matthew said, leaning forward more at the conference table they were all seated at, "I'm not saying that's going to be the _whole_ movie—I'm just saying one scene." He made a gesture with his hand, "I want to do something 'big' in this next movie, something that will leave fans speechless, something that they weren't expecting."

"I'll say that's something that no one will be expecting." James said dryly. It's going to be like a bomb going off, fuck.

A bomb of _looove_.

Next to him, Michael gave the brunet a nudge with his elbow and muttered: "Just hear him out James." He was totally onboard with this whole idea—it was fresh and new—something that no one would see coming. Like a slap in the dark.

Although, it does have the potential of being a horrible, horrible, terrible idea. So terrible.

But Michael's willing to take those chances—and he's not saying why. Yet.

And if it has anything to do with his crush on a certain Scottish co-star of his—he's definitely not saying.

"I'm thinking just one scene," Matthew went on, looking at both James and Michael, "I wanted Erik to come back to Charles, see him in the chair—broken hearted knowing that he was the one who did that to him—to the man he loved."

James made a face while Michael's heart just sped up. He was going to be sick- - this was such a bad, bad idea…

"Erik will look at Charles, and I mean _really_ look at him—pain and sorrow in his eyes. He's haunted by this sight. He'll kneel down, take Charles' hand and say: '_I think had things gone differently'_—meaning the beach scene—_'you and I, could have been together.' _But wait,_"_ Matthew held up a finger, "Fans will still think that Erik's just talking about Charles being by his side—fighting along with him," he then smiled, "Until Erik leans up and kisses him." Matthew clapped his hands together. "Bam!" Yep, just like a slap in the dark.

"_What_!?" James asked in near horror- -no- -_utter_ horror. "You want us to have a _kiss_ scene!?" Is that man insane!? Fans aren't going to want to see that!

…female fans will….

Michael too had a problem with that as well…he was hoping for more than just ONE kiss scene—perhaps a slightly PG-13 make-out scene…?

"Just trust me James," Matthew said, "It will be explosive—fans will be going just to see that one scene between them-"

"Highly doubt that," James said, cutting the man off and crossing his arms in the proceeding. Not that he had a problem kissing Michael Fassbender—_hell_—he _definitely_ didn't have a problem with that. It was just the whole idea of having Charles and Erik play the lover's card in the movie—it was just too risky for James.

Sighing, Matthew lowered his hands. "It's just one scene James—I think you'll change your mind once you see the script."

The brunet looked over to the writers. "You two already wrote the scene, didn't you?"

Smiling, Ashley just said: "It was the first one we wrote." She looked over to her fellow writer, Simon. "We we're both very excited to finally get to show the more romantic side of the two characters."

"I had to talk her down from writing a full fledge make-out scene between you two," Simon added dryly.

Michael suddenly thought Simon was an idiot. He should be replaced—or better yet—_fired_, and just let Ashley write the whole script.

"Thanks," James said, "..I think."

"But listen, there's one more thing," (James groaned) Matthew told the two men, "I want that scene to be believable—and I'm talking _extremely_ believable. I'm not just going for shock effect by having two men kiss—I want the audience to really feel the love that you two have for each other—the pain of knowing that Charles and Erik will never be together like they both want to be. It's not just going to be some lewd kiss between two men—I want raw emotion and power behind it." He then looked to Michael, "Michael, when you kiss him, I want you to make me hurt—make me _want_ Erik and Charles to be together—convince me that their love is true."

Nodding, Michael was fairly confident that he could achieve that.

"And James," he eyed the brunet next, "I want you to look wistful, almost hurt that Erik dared come back to stir up those emotions again—the emotions that Charles thought he rid himself of so long ago." He paused, letting it all sink in, "You understand what I'm going for?"

"I'm afraid so," James muttered. That wouldn't be as hard as Matthew probably thought. If only the director knew…

"So what I want," the man went on, because clearly he's not done ruining James' day. "Is for you two to _really_ get into the mindset of each character for that scene—it's the first one we're shooting—I want it to be powerful, heartbreaking."

The only thing that will be breaking, is chairs in Movie Theaters across the globe once this trainwreck get's out. _They'll be riots_, James thought to himself, _riots_. It will be Guns N' Roses all over again.

Okay, so they'll be like two fangirls in each theater gazing lovingly at the screen—but THAT'S it!

James deadpanned, "So what you're saying," he looked right at his director, "is that you want Michael and me… to practice kissing?" They'd…already done that at the premiere party after First Class came out.

Boy was a LOT of booze involved that night. So much booze…

Just like there'll be so much rioting.

"Yes," Matthew said, all excited. James was finally understanding what he was going for. "Well, no, I mean—you two don't have to 'practice kissing' with each other (Michael wanted to protest that strongly), but I do want you guy's to start getting into that mindset at least a week before we shoot the scene—I really want to believe that Erik and Charles are in love." He looked all excited again, "I want you two to blow my mind!"

Oh, Michael would absolutely have no problem blowing-

"A week?" James said suddenly, "We start filming in 8 days!"

"Exactly," Matthew said with a grin, "So uh—get on it." He then tossed a script to each man before standing up.

"Blow my mind," he said again as he left the conference room and—_did he just do 'jazz hands'?_—that was Michael's!

Looking down at the script in his hand, James just swallowed as he read the title;

_X-Men: Days of Future Past_.

Oh boy.

…

"James, wait up!" Michael hollered after his co-star. He sprinted down the hallway to catch up with the shorter (yet suspiciously quicker) man.

Stopping, James let his shoulders slump in defeat as he heard Michael make his way closer. He knew what was coming…

"Hey," the taller man said, placing a hand on James' shoulder. James turned to face him. "Hi," Michael said again, with a smile. "I haven't seen you in awhile—you barely said two words to me before the conference started." _God James looked good_.

James sighed. "What do you want Michael?" Michael _knew _why they'd hardly spoken that day—James hated that he was playing coy about it. Hated that the other man was acting like that night never happened.

It could've ruined his marriage.

"You..you look good James—really good," Michael said truthfully, eyeing the brunet fondly.

James finally gave a small smile, some of the tension from earlier melting away from Michael's kind words. If Michael Fassbender could do one thing well—that was make someone feel very special with that low, velvety smooth voice of his. James tried to ignore the wave of tingles that rushed through his body after the other man spoke. _God. Damnit_.

"So- -so do you Michael," James returned, causing the other man to smile as well. He looked up at him. "So, no more blond hair huh?"

"Right after we finished filming Prometheus," he ran his hand over his head and made a buzzing noise, "Gone."

James gave a small chuckle. "I kind of liked it," he told his co-star. It was a sexy look for him. _Stop. Stop it now. Stop having those thoughts._

James liked it? Well fuck, Michael will dye his hair blond again—if that's what James likes, hell, he'll do it right now—no matter how much Michael thought he looked like a 5 dollar rent boy—he'll go to the nearest hair salon right now and get it dyed if that what James wants.

Okay, he should really calm down—that would not be a good idea considering they start filming next week and Erik Lehnsherr definitely does NOT have blond hair. Matthew would be…_not_ _happy,_ if he were to show up like that, thanks.

"But of course," James went on, "I always did like the 'Erik Lehnsherr' look on you as well."

"The 'Erik Lehnsherr look'?" Michael cocked an eyebrow, "So that's what we're calling it?" He ran his hand through his long-again hair.

James shrugged, "Eh, it's not the 'Michael Fassbender'—that's for sure." _Stop. Flirting._

"Oh? And what IS the 'Michael Fassbender'?" The taller man inquired, smiling like a loon. Were he and James flirting? He's pretty sure they were flirting.

"I'm not sure," James said quizzically, "Every time I see a photo of you on the internet or in a magazine article—your hairs a different style." Oh god, did he just say all that? How stalkerish did that just sound? _Shut. Up. Now. McAvoy. Just-shut-up_.

And now Michael was grinning even wider (yep, apparently James DID just say all that. Splendid.) "You read articles about me?" Did James still have-

"No," the Scottish man said suddenly, shaking his head and trying to reword what he just said, "I just mean, I've seen a couple articles about you—and you look different each time…is all." Whelp, time to exit stage left before he further embarrasses himself with his co-star/man he has to kiss and convince the world that he loves next week. Joy.

"Listen, I have to go Michael—it was nice catching up with you and I look forward to our upcoming time we'll be spending together for the next six months or so while we're filming the movie." He _hopes_ they'll get it all done in six months, just like with First Class. It seemed doubtful though.

"James wait," Michael said quickly, reaching out and placing a hand to the smaller man's shoulder to stop him from leaving. "I…you're still upset with me, aren't you?"

Sighing, James just looked down. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered.

"We haven't spoken since that night James; don't act like you don't know what I'm-"

"Don't," James warned, bringing his eyes back up to the man before him. "It almost ruined my marriage."

Michael was silent for a moment, just studying the man. "So you told Anna Marie?" he asked softly.

"Of course, she's my wife." James told him.

Michael made a face. "And she was..upset?"

"At first," the smaller man sighed, "but after a while she admitted that she was happy it happened with you and not, say; Jennifer, or January—she wouldn't have been able to forgive me as easily had it been one of those two." His small smile was back, "Hell, after even longer, I think she actually started to think it was hot and was more upset that she missed it."

Michael forced his own smile—if only Anna Marie knew just how much HE envied her.

"Well, I'm sorry either way if I caused any trouble in your marriage—it was not my intention."

James held up a hand to stop him, "No, it's okay—you don't have to apologize—it was just as much my fault as it was yours."

And Jack Daniel's.

…mainly Jack Daniel's.

"Well…I'm still sorry." But not _that_ sorry—that was the hottest make-out session Michael's had with anyone up against a wall in a small, dark hallway in awhile.

Thankfully no one got it on camera—that would've been YouTube gold. Fuck.

"As long as it doesn't happen again," James murmured with a smile, but his voice was somewhat… teasing?—what the fuck?

"Well," Michael said almost beseechingly, looking sheepish, "It kinda will… be happening again. Remember that 'scene' we have to do?" On the inside, Michael was jumping for joy—he wanted to kiss Matthew.

No—actually, he wanted to kiss James—and he WAS going to get to do that.

He just wanted to do it BEFORE the scene. A lot. Repeatedly.

"Yes, yes," James said dismissively, "but that's different—that's for the film. Anna Marie doesn't care about stuff like that—it's what goes on AFTER the cameras stop rolling that concerns her." He gave the taller man a pointed look. "Understood?" In other words—no more making out in small dark corners while drunk out of their skulls.

Michael nodded. "Of course." He bit his lip, "Buuuttt…Matthew _did_ say he wanted us to get into our character's mindset's _before_ we started filming... remember that too?" Reaching—Michael was reaching.

James sighed (it was working it would appear). "Yes, I heard what he said Michael," he looked sternly up to his co-star, "But that doesn't mean we're going to practice kissing like a couple of 5th graders," he then arched an eyebrow, "I think we _already_ got enough practice there."

What the hell's he talking about? Michael doesn't consider one night of passionate making-out OVER two years ago 'practice'—they need to catch up damn it—especially if this is going to be convincing.

But James seemed pretty adamant on NOT getting frisky with Michael anytime soon.

Unless…

Oh yes, Michael knew just how to get James loosened up.

"Alright," Michael said, hand up in defeat, "I understand." He then shot the smaller man a coy smile. "At least come up to my room for a drink tonight, we'll go over the script and discus how we think the scene should go." He looked softly at the brunet, seeing the doubt in his blue eyes, "Come on James, I haven't seen you in over two years," unless you count the times he masturbated to pictures of the man on the internet. He smiled, "I'll make my famous Martini's," he added.

Looking up at Michael, James just replied: "Your famous Martini's?" that did sound good, "And you'll… you'll shake the shit out of them?" He smiled, recalling that very interview they did together talking about Michael and his amazing Martini making skills.

Smiling himself, Michael just said: "Yes James, I'll shake the shit out of them."

…

"So, do you think the rumors are true? That Matthew's the father of January's baby?" Michael asked James as he was shaking the man his third Martini—and if he was putting a little more vodka in it than necessary, well—he's not telling.

"What?" James asked with a face, "I thought YOU were the father!" He declared and then started laughing, nearly falling off bed in the process. Jerk. Michael shot James a look, but the brunet missed it due to his laughing/giggling fit—yep—the man was getting drunk. Perfect.

"Sorry, sorry," James said, trying to collect himself. He took the drink that Michael offered him. Boy they sure were stronger than he remembered. "It's not funny—I know, we shouldn't joke about it," he said with a smile as he took a sip. He really DID secretly think Michael was the father for awhile there.

Michael just turned and started on his drink next. Like he would touch January Jones, let alone get her pregnant—Christ. Not that he didn't find her beautiful of course; he just wasn't quite into that—he was more into the soft, brunet and Scottish type.

And drunk, which he's pretty sure James was.

"Perhaps you should go easy on that one," he warned the younger man. Perhaps he shouldn't have been mixing them stronger than normal. He forgot what a lightweight James was.

"Oh I'm fine," James said with the wave a hand. He took another drink before setting it down on the table. "Alright, so—now that we got the gossip portion of the night over with—let's move on to the script." Everything's easier when you're drunk. Even if it is a kiss scene with your co-star that you made-out with secretively in a dark corner two years ago. AND enjoyed!

"Agreed," Michael said, reaching over and picking up said script. He thumbed through it until he got to their 'love' scene. "Wow," he said after a moment of scanning it over, "It really is just what Matthew said he wanted in the conference," he looked at James. "Word for word," he added dryly. (But he was sooo excited.)

"Let's have a look," James said as he stood, coming closer to his friend. (Michael had to suppress a sharp breath from James' sudden closeness— so long, it had been so long).

"Magneto kneels down by Charles' chair, takes his hand, blah, blah, blah," James skips over some of the feelings parts—he's pretty sure him and Michael got that down, "and says: "I think had things gone differently, you and I could have been together," he read softly and then looked up at Michael, who was staring back at James with pure want in his eyes, "and then they kiss," he finished with a whisper.

Michael dropped the script, leaned down and pressed his lips to James'.

"No," James said with a gasp as he pulled away. He looked away from the taller man, a hand to his chest to hold him back, "We can't do this again Michael," he said softly. But so badly did he want to suddenly—he forgot how good it felt to be so close to the man who stole his heart all those years ago.

"We're just rehearsing," Michael told him with a small smile, taking a step closer despite the hand to his chest (and _god_ it felt good there), "and nothing more," he lied. Looking back up at the taller man, James was skeptical at first, but he eventually asked: "Nothing more?"

"Nothing more," Michael parroted back as he leaned down and slid their lips back together again- - where they belonged.

After long, Michael had James on the bed, thrusting into him (after much prep), as he kissed the brunet- - kissing away his cried and moans from both pleasure and pain. James wrapped his arms around Michael's shoulders, eyes squeezed shut tight as he felt the other man moving inside him- -and it was like nothing he'd ever felt before.

"Michael," he gasped out, turning his head to face the other way.

…

"This can't happen again," James said over to Michael, staring at the man in bed next to him. Michael smiled. "Of course James," he muttered. _Lied_.

"No, I'm serious," the smaller man said as he sat up a little. He shook his head- - still fuzzy from all the alcohol. "This _can't_ happen again—this was a mistake. You cannot have me Michael- -I am not on the market," he told his co-star sternly.

Sitting up a little himself, Michael replied: "Alright, alright—I got it—never again." He smiled at the brunet. _Forever again_.

"Okay," James breathed. He looked around the room for a moment before his eyes landed back on Michael. "Well, I hate to fuck and run, but I'm awfully drunk and this is awfully awkward- - I- - I think I should leave."

Michael lay back down, hands behind his head. "I don't mind if you stay the night," he told the ceiling. He would love to fuck James again. Repeatedly. That earned him a rather dubious look from the younger man. "My room is only a few doors down—I'm not staying here Michael."

Chuckling, Michael just said: "And here I thought you were a cuddlier." He remembered THAT interview too. All of them in fact.

"Good night Michael," James said as he got up and pulled his pants on. Michael rolled onto his side and watched the other man with lust filled eyes. _God James is a perfect specimen—that body, that hair, those lips and eyes—just beautiful._

Breathtaking.

James caught his friend staring. "Seriously Michael," he said again, "You cannot have this," he ran a hand down his dressed-again body, "You cannot have James McAvoy." Not again- - not ever again.

After he left, Michael laid back on his back, looking up at the ceiling once more.

So he can't have James McAvoy?—well that's alright—because he never said anything about _Charles_…

…

"Jesus, I'm going to get liver disease if I keep hanging out with you," James said over to Michael the next night, drink in hand as they sat together at the hotel bar. Michael just grinned, ordered them another round and looked over at the shorter man. "But what else are we going to do? We don't start filming for another seven days, and Matthew _did_ say we needed to start getting prepared for our _love_ scene," he teased. James shot him a disapproving look. "If you even think this is going where it went last-"

"Oh don't be ridiculous," Michael cut him off, "You already told me, _James_ is off the market." But Charles is readily available…

"Alright," James said as his new drink was set down in front of him, "As long as we're on the same page then," he mumbled.

Later, James found himself drunker than he cared to think about, and he only knew this state of drunkenness because he was being pushed up against the door to Michael's room and being kissed by the man. Passionately.

And he wasn't stopping him.

Yet his body was screaming for this to stop—he knew it was wrong, he knew he shouldn't be doing this. And yet there was also that little part of his brain that was saying: don't be silly—you two are just rehearsing—Matthew said to _really_ get into the role.

Too bad he knew that was a damn lie.

"I don't think we should do this," he rasped out as they broke away. He looked up into Michael's wanting eyes. "This is a bad idea." Matching James' gaze, the other man just said: "Tell me you don't want this."

James took in a sharp breath, eyes darting back and forth from Michael's. "You know I _do_," he ground out. But he was mad—mad as hell—Michael knew this was what he wanted, but the man also knew just how terribly wrong it was. What a selfish bastard he was—as long as Michael got what Michael wanted, no matter who he hurt along the way—he'd do whatever it took to get it.

"So you finally admit," Michael whispered against the Scottish man's lips, "that you want this." He grinned. "You already knew that," he bit out again, pushing Michael back just enough so he could look into his eyes. He shook his head, "You knew that all along—why do you think I stopped talking to you after First Class ended? You _knew_ I had feelings for you damnit—don't act fucking coy."

Smiling like a predator, Michael just reached behind James and slid his keycard into the slot and opened the door—the Scottish man tumbling in. He had him now- - James was trapped. "On the bed James," Michael ordered as he began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Michael please," James tried but the taller man just grabbed him by the wrist and pushed him back onto the bed. "It's too late James," he said with a sick grin, "You've already told me how you feel about me—you've already let the beast free." He whipped his shirt off the rest of the way and climbed onto the bed, straddling the smaller man. "You can't tell me that you want this- -that you want ME- - and then just expect me to act like it never happened—you know it doesn't work that way," he told James, reaching out and grabbing both his hands to pin them to the bed. James let out a soft moan, tipping his head to the side as his heartrate sped up to uncontrollable speeds. This wasn't right—something wasn't right— Michael wasn't acting like himself.

"Tell me you want this," Michael bit out, tightening his hold on the smaller man's wrist, "Tell me James!" Bringing his eyes back up to Michael's, James just whispered: "I want this," and Michael crashed their lips together.

This time when they fucked, it was different- - less caring and less passionate- -more forceful and rough.

It frightened James.

Michael held him down as he drove his cock into him repeatedly, snapping his hips and keeping a firm hold on the brunet's wrists—as if he thought he might try and escape. James moaned out, sweaty and still sore from the night before, as he looked up into the other man's eyes—but it wasn't Michael he saw staring back at him. It was… someone else…someone he couldn't quite put his finger on- - but he felt like he knew him, or should at least.

Until…

Michael's orgasm rocked through his body, sending wave after wave of pleasure through him while he was buried deep inside the other man. He stilled his hips, brought his forehead down to James' shoulder as he filled the smaller man up and moaned out:_"Charles."_ James froze. He pushed Michael up just enough to meet eyes and whispered: "What did you say?"

…

"Hey," Matthew said to James, a few days before they were to start shooting, "What's up with Fassbender? I just ran into him and he acting all strange—he told me to call him 'Erik' from now on."

James' heart froze. Christ, the man really was taking this too far. He forced a smile and told his director: "Don't worry about him, he's just _really_ into the role," perhaps a little TOO into the role, "I think he's just trying to delve into the mindset of Magneto so he can capture him even more perfectly than before," or something like that, James had no idea what the fuck he was saying—he was too busy panicking and trying to figure out what to do to get the old Michael back.

This Erik shit was too much, especially after last night…

_"Dear lord Michael, why are you already in wardrobe?" he eyed the man and his turtleneck, knowing for a FACT that Michael Fassbender does NOT like wearing them._

"_What do you mean?" He asked causally, glancing back at the brunet, "I told you, I just want to get into character as much as I can." He then cocked an eyebrow, "And I have to say, you're one to talk—look at you—you look just like him," he finished the last part with fondness in his voice._

_James swallowed. "What do you mean?"_

_Coming closer, Michael tipped James' face up. "You look just like Charles," he breathed, taking in the other man's appearance, from his hair style— slightly longer than he normally wears it—to his clean shaven face. All he needed was a cardigan and he'd be perfect…_

"_Michael, you're scaring me," James whispered, "I think you've taken this a bit too far, don't you?"_

"_I don't think I've taken it far enough," he said, and then sealed their lips together._

"_It doesn't have to be this way," James gasped out once he broke away, looking alarmed at the other man and noticing that crazed look in his eye. "Yes it does," Michael snapped out as he pushed James to the bed, "Now take off your clothes..."_

"_Charles."_

"Right," Matthew said, bringing James out of his daze, "Well, just… tell him to take it down a notch- - he's starting to scare the production crew. He won't listen to me, but I know he trusts what you say."

James swallowed. "I'll try."

…

That night, James rapped on Michael's door— hesitant— but he knew he at least needed to try. Try and talk some sense into the man.

"Charles," the taller man said with a creepy smile after he flung his door open. "So nice to finally see you- -I'd thought you were avoiding me for some reason- -I haven't seen you all day. Come in, please," he stepped aside. Every fiber in James' being was yelling at him to not go in—that this was a bad idea—that Michael needed to get some help. That he was dangerous.

Dangerous like Erik.

Yet he still found himself making his way into Michael's hotel suite, despite the growing concern he had for his safety. He turned to face Michael once the door closed. "I've ask you not to call me that Michael," he told the taller man, but Michael just tsked him, "Ah-ah, what have I told you?" he waved a finger, "It's Erik now- - you have to call me _Erik_." James took in a deep breath, _dear lord- - it really is that bad_, "I think you may need help Mich-"

"_Erik_!" he snapped at James and then took in his own calming breath. "I told you to call me _Erik_," he finished collectively. James swallowed, "_Er_-ik," he forced himself to say (Michael visibly relaxed, shoulders slumming as the tension drained out of them) "Don't you think it's a bit much? You don't have to 'live' Erik 24/7- -Matthew just said to get into the mindset of our character's- -not _be_ them." He didn't want Michael to BE Erik, it was creepy at best. "Oh," Michael said hauntingly as he made his way closer to the brunet, "I'm afraid that's where you're mistaken," he ran a hand down James' cheek, "you see- - I already _am_ him."

"What," James asked with a gulp, "do you mean?"

Pindrop silence.

"I am Erik."

…

That night when Michael fucked him, he held James' wrists down onto the bed so tight, he left bruises.

"Say it," Michael rasped out, rolling his hips into the smaller man, over and over again, "Say my name," he demanded into James' neck, taking in the other man's scent- - and if he actually was an animal, he'd be able to smell the fear on James when the man closed his eyes and gasped out: "_Erik_," as a single tear slid down his cheek- - _what happened to his friend? His once lover?_- -and instantly, Michael's whole body shuddered as his orgasm rocked through him. He bit down onto James' neck (hard) to muffle his cry of pleasure. And joy- - so much joy. He pulled back after a moment, looking down into James' eyes.

"I love you Charles," he muttered.

…

The day they started filming finally arrived, both men ready and prepared as ever (and if only everyone knew just HOW prepared they really were). Everyone was on their mark and Matthew called '_Action!_'. Michael strolled onto the set, eyed James in the wheelchair for a moment before he dropped down to his knee, taking one of James' hands in his own. "Charles," he said with raw emotion, "I had no idea-"

"Don't Erik," James said sternly and then shook his head with a small chuckle after a moment. "Oh my friend, I do not need your pity." Michael glanced at the floor for a three count, then flashed his eyes back up. He swallowed. "I think, had things gone differently- -you and I- -we could've been together."

James swallowed this time, giving the perception of fighting back tears. "Oh Erik," he said gently, "I do wish you wouldn't say things like that- -there's no point in bringing up the past." That was Michael's cue: he rose back up, staring longingly at the man for a moment before he leaned down and pressed their lips together for a heart-shattering kiss, leaving the entire crew and most of their co-stars, utterly speechless at the rawness of it. So much hurt, so much passion. It even brought a tear to Matthew's eye. He called 'cut', got up out of his seat and started clapping. "Amazing!" he called out as the others all started joining in on the clapping. "Brilliant!"

Michael pulled away slowly (and if the kiss lasted well after 'cut' was called, well, no one said anything about it) and smiled down at James, before he stood up all the way and looked around the room. He felt…accomplished.

"Alright," Matthew hollered out once the clapping and hooting (thanks Lucas) subsided, "Now let's do it ten more times until it's perfect!"

James' face fell. _What?_

…goddamn directors.

…

"Hey," a bubble and beautiful Jennifer Lawrence said to James as she made her way over to him after the scene. "That was some pretty amazing stuff back there," she said with a smile. "You almost had me convinced that you and Michael really are in love and secretly sleeping together," she joked. _And oh god- - it was so not a joke_. James smiled, but it was a nervous one. "Oh, come on now- -that's ridiculous- -Michael's just a really good actor," he told her as he took a sip from the paper cup he was holding. "Great actually." He looked away. _Oh no- - he's pinning_.

"I wasn't just talking about Michael," Jennifer said, knowing smile still on her face. "You were pretty darn convincing yourself out there, _Charles_," she teased. (And if only she knew just how un-funny that was to James.) He looked back at her, eyebrow cocked in question. "Oh come on," she said playfully, "I saw that look you gave Michael, well- - I guess _Erik_- -Matthew told me just how into character that man got over the past week," she rolled her eyes, "leave it to Michael Fassbender to delve into a role so seriously that it consumes him." _You have no idea._ She chuckled. "Did you know that when he was filming 'Hunger', he actually had one of the other actors move into his flat just so they could rehearse a certain scene over and over again—sometimes up to 15 times a day! Talk about crazy, uh?"

James could only stare at her. "What _look_?" was all he could find to say seeing how that's all he heard of that entire conversation. Jennifer made a face. "The look of love, duh," she shrugged.

…

James managed to avoid Michael for the most part during the rest of filming—well, off set that was—on set it was a bit more difficult, but at least there were always other people around, so Michael didn't try anything to strange. Asides from making everyone call him 'Erik' all the time and giving James fond/creepy looks from across the room. It always made James shudder, but not in a good way.

He only found himself back in Michael's room twice while they finished filming—once was because he'd gotten very drunk with Lucas and Nick one night, and ended up at Michael's door instead of his own, (seriously, it was because he forgot what room number he was in- -really. Okay, that was at least that what he told himself. Repeatedly.) which resulted in some very rough and near frightening sex with Michael (Erik), who insisted that James (Charles) let him bound his wrist together with metal—or, as James found out—handcuffs, as they fucked.

_"It's okay Charles, I can control them. You know I feel safer with metal around_."

The other time (near the very end of filming and long after the last late night visit) was when James stopped by on his way to set that morning, wanting simply to check on Michael (he'd been showing up later and later on set the past couple of days). They only had about two day's left of filming and James was becoming increasingly more afraid that Michael had let Erik take over his life completely. And his fears were confirmed when Michael opened the door, looking haggard and tired, like he hadn't got any sleep in a long time (probably since the last time James had stopped by that drunken night). The taller man gasped when he saw James.

"Charles," he said brokenly, "I knew you'd come back to me."

After that, James managed to avoid Michael for the remaining two days (luckily they were done filming all the scenes they had together) and also managed to avoid him during the premiere, and he just plain skipped out on the after party this time. _No dark corners this time, courteous of Jack Daniel's_. The sequel was a hit, smashing the Box Office and breaking First Class by a couple million.

James refused to answer any of Michael's calls, texts or e-mails, deleting them on sight, and after awhile, Michael stopped all together. _Oh thank god_.

One day, shortly after filming, James' wife had asked: "How's Michael?"

James just replied: "He's fine."

She gave him a look and hummed: "Mm-Hm."

And life seemed to go back to normal a few months after that, and as even more time passed—a couple years— it was as if it never happened.

Until…

"Hello?" James said into his cell phone.

"Hey, James—it's Matthew," came the voice on the other end.

James' heart stopped, he said nothing. _Oh god oh god oh god._

"You ready for the 3rd film?" Matthew asked with a smile in his voice.

James swallowed.

Oh crap.

THE END.


End file.
